#crestazul

A PEAK AT WHAT’S INSIDE FRED'S . . .

“junk” drawer

arranged  in  an  ordered,  thoughtful  way  in  little  compartments  inside  the  top  drawer  of  his  computer  desk  are  the  usual  suspects:  pens,  markers,  scissors,  tapes,  batteries,  an  electric  lighter,  and  a  leatherman  multitool.

there's  a  big  compartment  in  the  middle.  it  is  home  to  the  more  "random"  objects:  a  solar  powerbank  that  has  been  with  him  on  many  camping  trips,  unique  seashells  of  varying  sizes  and  shapes  that  he's  not  sure  where  to  put,  an  old  ticket  to  the  the  seattle  aquarium  that  he  feels  wierdly  sentimental  of,  old  biogradable  rubber  bands  from  a  research  project  he  has  saved  for  future  use,  and  a  box  of  band  aids  he  has  specifically  bought  for  his  clumsier  companions.

five most recent in contact list

* in his vampire life . . .

[ annie ] 1 minute ago

he  had  called  to  ask  annie  about  her  day  and  to  wish  her  goodnight.  he's  in  another  country,  but  he'll  be  back  with  her  soon.  (  it's  2  am  where  she  is,  but  he  knew  that  she  would  be  awake.  sleep  is  a  luxury  their  bodies  allow  them  only  when  they  are  near  one  another,  if  even  that.  )

[ arthur  sheridan ] yesterday

a  professional  acquaintance  from  fred's  brief  stint  as  a  researcher  for  the  natural  history  museum  in  london.  arthur  is  a  kind  man  in  his  70s  who  shares  fred's  love  for  deep-sea  animals.  arthur  had  called  fred  to  ask  if  he  would  be  interested  in  taking  part  in  his  upcoming  research  project  in  the  bahamas.  fred  declined  the  offer,  claiming  the  caribbean  is  a  little  too  sunny  for  his  taste.

* in his human life . . .

[ bree ] 8:10 pm

working  post-opening  hours  at  the  aquarium . . .  he's  alone  in  the  break  room  when  he  receives  a  picture  of  henry  the  cat  looking  very  sad.  the  text  that  accompanies  it  claims  to  come  from  henry  himself.  "i  meow  u  :(  when  will  you  come  home?"  bree,  henry's  favourite  human  servant,  answers  the  phone  when  fred  calls  and  puts  him  on  the  speaker.  fred  spends  the  rest  of  his  break  telling  henry  about  how  the  animals  at  the  aquarium  are  doing.  it's  hard  to  tell  who  is  listening  more  intently,  the  cat  or  bree.

[ mom ] 05/09/25

the  conversation  lasted  8  minutes  and  45  seconds  according  to  the  call  log.  fred  only  spoke  twice  in  the  8  minutes  and  45  seconds.  his  silence  didn't  seem  to  bother  his  mother  much.  she  had  always  liked  hearing  herself  speak. 

[ missed call from an unknown caller ] 01/09/25

california  area  code.  it  can't  be  riley,  can  it?  his  worry  grows  teeth.  he  watches  the  phone  ring  with  empty  eyes,  too  afraid  of  hearing  riley's  voice  on  the  other  end  to  pick  up.  it  takes  a  painfully  long  time  for  the  screen  to  go  black.

SOMETHING HAS GONE UNSAID between finnick and mags the past few weeks. the careers that train beneath finnick’s instruction are nameless— whether they live or die has never sunk teeth within his shipwreck heart. he cannot afford to care about much, and so he does not spend his reserves on the tributes from four. until this year.

he does not understand why he did it or what of her defenselessness screamed so loud he couldn’t ignore it and didn’t want to, but the fact remains that annie cresta’s win was expensive for finnick. he would have paid it again in a heartbeat, which is terrifying and confusing and he cannot bother to unravel the insanity that possessed him this year. so, mags hasn’t brought it up, not a why nor an acknowledgement of what finnick did, and he’s grateful for it.

what is more important is that annie cresta has been screaming. distant though it was, she woke him the night prior and he listened until she stopped and then long after, on the edge of showing up on her doorstep thwarted only by nervousness of interfering with her family.

that is why this morning, finnick finds himself breaking a window. just a small one next to a side door— easy to fix the one pane and it was so thin it was asking to be broken. hand gloved in his coat, he reaches in and unlatches the gold handle then swings open the door to a house he is now certain is empty of anyone except for annie.

he came with the most innocent intentions; just to introduce himself to her family and offer his and mags’ help should they need or want it, but nobody answered the door, and he detected no movement from inside. he has witnessed no comings and goings, and unnervingly he is beginning to think that as her screams went on and on, that she was alone then too.

it  had  been  something  she  had  known.    the  way  their  fingers  had  entwined,  the  way  annie  had  held  onto  him  as  if  another  wave  could  crush  them  apart.  there  had  been  a  yearning  elsewhere,  for  the  safety  of  another  one's  arms.  the  way  it  calmed  the  thunderous  storms  rattling  forest  crowns  and  flowers.    an  unease,  seeing  a  mirror  right  there,  the  reflection  of  herself  met  with  the  pain  of  another.    "  hi,  annie  .  "    she  spoke,  the  shiver  of  a  voice,  the  difficult  of  every  word,  regardless  of  its  simplicity.    "  i  am    ⸺    "    the  wife  of  the  person  who  had  done  all  of  this  to  you  .      and  to  me  .      her  lips  push  together,  the  CARVING FOR A NEW IDENTITY .    "  virgilia.    one  of  plutarch's  .  .  .    friends.    "      friends  who  had  held  hands  every  opportunity  they  got,    friends  who  kissed  each  other  more  times  than  she  could  count  now  that  they  could.    that  kind  of  friends. 

"yeah, yeah, i know.  a shaved head doesn't really   suit me,"  johanna says with a wave of her hand by the side of her head.  not that the looks she got those days really bothered her; johanna was used to getting unwanted attention.  but she knew her lack of hair now wasn't the reason people were looking.  "i probably should've done it to myself years ago, now that i think about it.  just to really piss off the fucking president and totally ruin the pretty image he wanted for me."

❝    i was wondering if i could ask you a  favor.    ❞

*     [   @crestazul​   ]   SAID  :  ❛   you would think the sea could do something. but it just lifted and flattened, lifted and flattened.    ❜

he followed annie’s gaze out to sea and found only hurt on the horizon. before the games, the very same scenery used to soothe the wounds left behind by the ever-present teeth of his loneliness. now he could only look out to sea and ache, finding no remedy where there once used to be, his heart heavy with longing for something more, something different. his pain felt as infinite as the waves. it hurt to yearn for a world where nothing hurt.

“ the sea is the sea. i doubt she cares much for what we want. ” the sea was cold and unforgiving, but at least she was never dishonest about her nature. she never lied like people did. she never took children from their families for her entertainment, only to spit them out broken and bent like other people did.

“   i’m   the   youngest   of   three   boys.   ”   thumb   gently   rubs   over   the   small   stone   in   his   hand   ——   he’s   trying   to   skip   it   across   the   silent   pool   in   front   of   himself   and   @crestazul​.    “   i   was   eager   to   prove   i   was   good   enough.   ”    finally,   he   tosses   it,   watching   it   bounce   a   few   times   before   sinking   below   the   surface.    “   do   you   have   any   siblings?   ”